


With All Due Respect?

by ProtoNeoRomantic



Series: Patch Works [10]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Engagement, F/M, Parental Authority, Power Dynamics, Secret Relationship, Secrets Revealed, Statutory Rape, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 18:57:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1315672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoNeoRomantic/pseuds/ProtoNeoRomantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Joyce calls Giles in the middle of the night looking for Buffy, he doesn't admit that she is there, but he reveals something at least as dangerous, without consulting her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With All Due Respect?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Who Do You Think You Are?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235281) by [ProtoNeoRomantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoNeoRomantic/pseuds/ProtoNeoRomantic). 



_Buffy was floating in a warm dry sea. She was safe and loved. Contented. At peace. The universe was a complete and unified whole. It was beautiful. It made sense._ The phone rang. She broke the surface of the not-exactly-water and emerged into consciousness. She felt Giles’ warm, solid, naked body wrap a little more tightly around her as he reached across her to the phone on the night table on what she was now thinking of as ‘her’ side of the bed. She snuggled against him as he uttered a doubtful, “Hello?”

She had to bite her tongue to keep from gasping when she heard her mother’s voice say, “Mr. Giles, are you aware that my daughter has not been home tonight?” There was definite blame in her voice.

“Well... I... of course I am,” he admitted, sitting up and disentangling himself a little from the girl in question. “We’ve been... dealing with those ghosts. I think it’s safe to say we’ve gotten them all cleared out now.” Buffy sat up too, leaning her head against the receiver on his shoulder to hear what was being said.

“Well, then, where is she?” Joyce demanded. “And don’t lie to me, I’m tired of it!”

Giles sighed. What could he say? That he’d sent Buffy home and she must not have arrived? Clearly unacceptable. That she was at his home a one-thirty in the morning but not in his bed? Uncreditable, especially now he’d gone and admitted they were done working. He hadn’t thought that one through. His silence was in danger of becoming a response, and a cowardly one at that.

“Bloody hell,” he murmured. Buffy was gesturing frantically. Charades was not her game. “She’s... probably still out on patrol,” he said at last, realizing that it was the only acceptable answer. Buffy relaxed and nodded approval. “She said she was going to swing through a couple of cemeteries on the way home. I’ll... leave her a message to check in when she gets home.”

“I’ve left four,” said Joyce thinly.

“Well, then, please, by all means, if you don’t hear from her in an hour or so...”

“Actually,” said Joyce, “I think you and I need to talk.”

“What about?” said Giles tensely.

“There’s no way that Angel could possibly be the father of Buffy’s baby, is there?” Joyce challenged.

“Life,” he acknowledged with a sigh, “comes from living things.”

Buffy gave him a look of consternation, mouthing, ‘thanks a lot.’

“So who is it?” Joyce demanded, “is it you?”

Buffy seemed genuinely shocked that her mother was capable of making the leap. She really was frighteningly innocent. Giles hesitated. He’d already lied to this woman more than was conducive to ever gaining her trust, which was something he desperately needed. Buffy shook her head vigorously, but he couldn’t very well deny the fact now and then turn around and ask for her hand in another month. He put a finger to his lips, warning her not to speak in response to what he had to say next.

“Yes,” he admitted, “it is I.” Buffy’s eyes bulged out of her head. He gave her another silent admonishment to be quiet. Somehow, he felt this conversation could only go better if Joyce didn’t know Buffy was lying naked in his bed as they spoke.

Joyce exhaled tiredly. The fact that the man couldn’t speak without making her feel like she was having a grammar lesson didn’t help her temper any. “How long have you been sleeping with my daughter?” she demanded.

“Two weeks,” he said matter-of-factly. It was a cleaner narrative than the exact truth.

“So she lied to me, again, yesterday,” Joyce said. Buffy wrapped herself in the top sheet and glared at him.

Giles sighed. “I don’t think she would see it that way,” he said, “‘affair’ is sort of a loaded word. Buffy’s going to be very angry,” he added, more or less by way of apology to her, “when she finds I’ve told you this without consulting her, but I don’t want to lie about it. I don’t want us to be a secret; I want us to be a family.” Buffy’s glare softened, and she let him put his arm around her.

“What _exactly_ do you mean by that?” said Joyce. She hadn’t really expected an admission, just a chance to gauge the sincerity of his denials.

“I’ve asked Buffy to be my wife,” he said steadily, “and she’s agreed.”

“Oh dear lord!” she gasped, horrified.

“Naturally, this isn’t how we wanted you to learn this news,” he half apologized, “but Buffy and I are very much in love, and—”

“Don’t you talk to me about _love_!” Joyce retorted bitterly. “ _I’m_ not a child. If you think this is the way to pay for what you’ve done, you’re living in the wrong century.”

“Please,” he laughed dryly, “This isn’t the middle ages. If I were merely trying to... make amends we’d be talking through Hal about a very different set of arrangements. I love Buffy. I want to spend my life with her.”

“Did you come to that conclusion before or after she told you she was pregnant?” Joyce wanted to know.

Giles though about the question and tried to answer honestly. “I knew I was in love with her before that,” he said. “I doubt if the subject of marriage, as such, would have come up for another couple of years if ever.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this information,” said Joyce bitterly, “other than be angry. I could ruin you, but she’d only hate me for it. It’s too late. You’ve already taken her away from me.” She was near tears now.

“I don’t really think that’s the way to look at it,” he argued gently.

“It’ll be a cold day in Hell when I need _you_ to tell me the right way to look at something!” Joyce shot back angrily. “Do you think Buffy would give you a second look if you were a stranger passing her on the street? You’ve been this huge influence on her, instructing her, guiding her, all of it behind my back! That’s what you’re trading on, to get into my little girl’s pants, whatever you tell yourself, whatever you tell Buffy!”

“I can see why you would think that,” Giles admitted. “I doubt very much if I’m going to convince you otherwise tonight. I hope we can sit down and discuss the situation, the three of us, or four if you want to include Buffy’s father, when you get back from Sacramento.”

Joyce laughed bitterly, “Hank would have you locked up so fast your head would spin. I’m... not ready to do anything that drastic... yet. I’ll be home tomorrow, but I’m not sure what there is to discuss. I’m not fool enough to forbid Buffy to see you, but I also know you can’t marry her without my permission, and if you think I’m going to hand her over to you one second sooner than her eighteenth birthday, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Well, as I said,” he reiterated calmly, “the three of us can discuss it when you get home.”

“Well there’s something to look forward to,” said Joyce tersely.

“I’d say have a pleasant night...” said Giles, apologetic again.

Joyce laughed woodenly. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, and hung up the phone.

“Well,” said Giles grimly, replacing his own receiver, “That went about as well as could be expected.”

“Yeah,” agreed Buffy sarcastically, “except for the part where you told my _mother_ that we’re having _sex_.”

“I was only confirming what she clearly already knew,” Giles argued. “Besides, we couldn’t have hidden the truth from her much longer. At least now we know she doesn’t feel inclined to alert the authorities, at least not straight away. Which, besides being a relief in itself, means she’s willing to see reason and act on the basis of the results she wants to achieve rather than react to events out of pure emotion. All-in-all, I feel pretty optimistic about our chances of marrying sooner rather than later.”

Buffy gave him a skeptical look. “Were you having the same phone call I was listening to? Cause what I heard sounded like ‘hell no.’”

“‘Hell no,’ but not ‘burn in hell,’" he pointed out. "As I said, about as well as can be expected. Surely you must see how difficult this has to be for her. She’s clearly feeling... outmaneuvered, defeated. She’ll need time to make her peace with what’s happening.”

“So, what’s our next move?” Buffy asked.

“Well, right now, I think you’d better call your mother from your house—” he corrected himself at her pointed look, “from _her_ house, and let her know you’ve survived another night on the front lines.”

“Great,” said Buffy, “then I can spend the next hour or two listening to her yell at me.”

“Precisely,” said Giles grimly. “Don’t get defensive with her either. Show respect for her authority. When she finally accepts that we’re not taking ‘hell no’ for an answer, she needs to be made to feel that she’s choosing what’s best for you under the circumstances, rather than being backed into a corner and left without a choice.”

Buffy sighed, leaning back into his embrace. She squeezed his hands supportively and gave him a quick peck on the lips before getting to her feet with a sigh. “We’d better get going,” she said. “Will you stay with me tonight, at Mom’s?”

Giles shook his head. “I don’t think that falls within the strategy of showing her respect and giving her time,” he pointed out.

“Well” she said tiredly as they started to get dressed, “if she ever does give us permission, I think we’d better get married that minute before she can change her mind.”

“Agreed,” said Giles. “We can adjust the rest of our plans accordingly. I’d like to spend as short a time as possible living with the rather awkward circumstance of her knowing that we’re still having sex in the meantime.”

“Are we still having sex in the meantime?” Buffy asked.

“Well I certainly hope so!” Giles answered, “If I’m going to be living in the shadow of the gallows as it were, I want to at least enjoy myself.”

“Good,” Buffy said, putting her arms around him, “cause I want to enjoy yourself too.”

“Umm,” he leaned down and kissed her, “Are there any particular parts of myself that you'd especially like to enjoy once more before you go?”

“Yes,” Buffy whispered, directly against his ear, her body oh so close to his, making his blood boil with passion, “I would. But I’m afraid that would be disrespectful to my mother.”


End file.
